


Haircut (HankCon)

by CrimsonFandomTrash



Series: Detroit: Become Human Stuff - HankCon & Reed900 Hell [13]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Haircuts, Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, Hank Anderson Swears, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 23:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonFandomTrash/pseuds/CrimsonFandomTrash
Summary: Connor notices Hank's down about his appearance, so he comes up with a plan to spiffy him up.It's still September 6th where I am so it's still Hank's birthday lol. Happy birthday, Hank. Even tho you're not real.





	Haircut (HankCon)

   Hank's self-esteem isn't so much low as it is non-existent. They say once you hit rock bottom, you can't get any lower, but it appears Hank's brought a pickaxe with him and is ready to dig because although he was obviously at rock bottom a long time ago, he's just been getting worse. In part, it's the weather's fault. It's been really rainy as of recent, being April, and the weather was even starting to take a toll on Connor's mood, too. He wasn't about to go burying a bullet in his head (excluding that one time he almost did, but that's beside the point), but he's not really as chipper as he usually is, and the droll of police work is almost overbearing these days. 

   But that isn't the main focus here. The main focus is Hank, as he always has been. From the time he powers on, till the time he shuts down for stasis at night, there's always one string of text that's a constant floating in Connor's vision-- Take care of Hank and Sumo. He doesn't need to take care of himself, because there's nothing to take care of. He's only ever gotten sick the one time (thanks, CyberLife), he doesn't usually have to shower unless he's been playing in the mud with Sumo, and eating is optional, and he already prepares all of Hank's food because the man has admitted he's inept in the kitchen. Connor spends all of his free time taking care of his human and their dog because there's nothing he needs to do for himself to slow him down. 

   So, as he's making breakfast for him and Hank, Sumo contently running around in the backyard, he keeps his ears peeled for when his human will wake up. Hank's been waking up just to the smell of food these days, unlike before when Connor had to usually shake the Lieutenant awake because of how much he'd drank the night before. It's a nice change. He's also been eating healthier, thanks to Connor, quote, 'being able to make vegetables not taste like ass', as Hank had put it the first time he'd let Connor cook healthy food for him. 

   This particular morning the weather is actually decent out, and so Hank's mood might even be improved, the android muses as he makes breakfast burritos. When Hank finally does emerge from his room, he comments about the food smelling good, Connor thanks him, and the human goes to the bathroom to, well, do what humans do in bathrooms after just waking up. Hank calls it his 'morning shit'. Connor's sure he's not the only human to call it that. 

   He'd finished breakfast, and noticed that Hank had been in the bathroom for quite some time. Maybe he was having issues? It didn't seem likely. Connor had been feeding the man the right amount of everything. He got the recommended daily intake of calories, the right amount of each vitamin, and whatever Connor couldn't fit into a meal, he made sure to fit in one of the next day's meals. His diet was more balanced than most people's (now that Connor's around). He still had lunch at Chicken Feed sometimes, but there wasn't an issue with junk food in moderation. He didn't hear the shower, so that crosses that off, too. 

   He's about to go knock on the door when he hears Hank's voice from inside the bathroom, presumably talking to no one other than himself. "Ugh... What an ugly son of a bitch." Connor frowned, his hand still raised to tap on his knuckles on the door. Despite the door between them, Connor can almost simulate what Hank's doing right now in his head, looking in the mirror, scratching at his beard with a disgusted look on his face. The human would turn so he was sideways, and look at himself from that angle, and be even less impressed with what he saw. "God, I look awful."

   He hears Hank sigh. "Yeah. That's what tryin' to drink yourself to death for three years does to ya. 'S my own stupid fucking fault in the end. Cool. Another thing to add to the pile. Now I'm ugly, old, fat,  _and_  stupid."

   Connor walks away from the bathroom. He already knows where these conversations Hank has with himself usually go. He'll spend a couple minutes in there, pretending to be brushing his teeth, or combing his hair, but in reality, Connor already knows the other is just staring in the mirror, forever unimpressed and genuinely disgusted at what he sees looking back at him. He's complained about his weight, his face getting all wrinkly with old age, his hair going grey, his weight, and just about any other 'flaw', he could think to pick out. Connor's heard it a million times, argued with him about it even more than that, and in general, there really isn't anything Connor can do about it. 

   He doesn't have work today. Fowler simply hadn't scheduled him for today. When Connor asked why he hadn't really been given much of an answer. He figured it had something to do with Hank, who's always saying that Connor works too hard. And how wouldn't he work too hard? It seems like Reed is constantly dropping off a load of paperwork the size of Hank's disciplinary folder on his plate. Of course, that's slowed down since Nines, one of Reed's non-offensive nicknames for Bryan, the RK900, showed up, but it's still a common enough occurrence that Hank ends up waiting in the car fifteen to thirty minutes after quitting time just because Gavin decided it'd be a good idea to drop a truckload of work on his desk. At this point, Connor's convinced Captain Fowler, did not, in fact, tell Gavin to drop off that paperwork, and the arrogant such-and-such was just dumping his own work off on him. 

   So, no work today, for no real reason, but he's glad he won't have to be picking up Gavin's slack today. He finishes all the chores in under an hour, which leaves him with nothing to do in the house anymore. He decided to visit Markus.   
\-----------------------------------

   More often than not, going to visit Markus resulted in one of two things happening. Either he'd visit Markus, and Markus would be by himself, playing piano, reading a book, or painting. Or, he'd go to Markus, and end up also spending time with North, Josh, and Simon as well. 

   It wasn't that he didn't like the rest of them, he simply felt more comfortable around only Markus. Markus was smart, and gave really good advice, and overall just really cool to hang out with. So, as he knocked on the door of the mansion, and Markus invited him in, he was relieved that he'd only be hanging out with Markus. North didn't like him, watching Simon and Josh interact made his heart ache with loneliness, and he had a lot on his mind that he wanted to clear up in the confidence of just Markus. 

   The other android sits across from him, and Connor folds his hands in his lap out of habit more than anything else, leaning forward in his chair. "How have things been? Are you still staying with the Lieutenant?"

   Connor nodded. "Yeah." That doesn't seem like enough, so he quickly adds, "I've been getting him to eat healthier and stop drinking recently, so he's in much better shape."

   "That's good."

   "How's your dad?"

   "Still kicking," Markus replied, quite happily, Connor noted. "He's in the studio right now, working on something... You seem distracted."

   Well, he certainly didn't beat around the bush. Connor rubbed his hands together, another one of his 'ticks', as Hank had called it. "Despite my best efforts, Hank still struggles with his self-esteem, or lack thereof, I suppose." He says, bluntly, honestly. "I was wondering if you'd have any advice on how I could help him."

   "What seems to be the root of those issues?" Markus asked. The thing Connor liked about talking to Markus was that he was very forward thinking. If he saw an issue, or if one was brought up to him, he sought to correct it. He didn't waste time. 

   "Namely his weight, his age, and his appearance associated with both of those concepts. I've improved his diet, and he usually gets in the recommended hour of daily activity at work alone, but even though he's lost a few pounds, he doesn't seem happy with his progress."

   And there was nothing he could do about Hank's age, he didn't add, because Markus was very aware of that. Carl was seventy-five years old, had a heart condition, and no longer had the use of his lower body. It was only a matter of time before his own mortality caught up with him. Hank was fifty-three and mildly overweight. His situation wasn't as fatalistic. 

   "Humans are complicated creatures," Markus said. "They worry about things that shouldn't really matter in the grand scheme of things in an attempt to escape from their impending demise. They fill their time with meaningless things and concepts to distract themselves, like their looks, and their jobs. I'm not sure what would really help you there. It's just kind of who they are. Maybe try to distract him from such petty things so he doesn't focus on them, or try complimenting him more often, see if that helps."  
\-----------------------------------------------

   He'd spent the rest of the day thinking of some way to help Hank, that objective still screaming in his face.  _Take **care**  of  **Hank**  and  **Sumo**_. His constant goal in life. 

   Well, he'd let Sumo out when he'd gotten home, so there was that. Though, since the goal stretched basically as far as both aforementioned subject's lifetimes, he'd never accomplish his mission. Not for a long time, anyway, and there'd be nothing to gain when he wasn't taking care of the Saint Bernard or the human anymore. Because that would be when they were dead. 

   He shook the thought from his head. He needed to focus. He needed to help Hank. Hank would be home from work soon. The android decided to scroll through YouTube. He had a lot of ideas while watching YouTube videos, clicking on a video about a coin trick he'd yet to learn and then ending up on a video of a guy pulling a condom out of his nose three hours later, somehow.

   He'd ended up down the rabbit hole that was YouTube and was on the third hair tutorial when it clicked in his head. He knew what he was going to do.

   When Hank came home, Connor had dinner ready on the table. They talked as they usually did over dinner. Hank told an interesting story about Nines 'accidentally' pouring steaming hot coffee in Gavin's lap today. Connor chuckled a little at the mental image that painted in his head, and when the conversation had finally fallen flat on his face, he made his move. "I discovered something I was interested in today."

   He'd already rehearsed everything he was going to say, had a vague idea of what his partner would say in return, so it didn't surprise him when the older man raised a brow. "Oh? What's up?"

   "Cosmetology." He answered. Hank made a face. "I was watching YouTube, and ended up on some hair tutorials. I installed a couple extensions that gave me knowledge in the field, but... I don't have anyone to practice on."

   He gave a small smile, and Hank immediately picked up on it. "So, you want me to be your life-sized Ken doll, 's that it?"

   "You have been saying you want a haircut." The older man scrunched up his face. "I'm not gonna mess up, promise. I've already calibrated my motor skills and made sure all systems are fully operational."

   "Of course, you did. Why doesn't that surprise me?" Hank laughed. "Alright. You can gussy me up like a Barbie."

   "I thought Barbies were customarily female?"

   "I thought cosmetologists were, too." Hank quipped back. Connor smiled a bit. Though the joke was made at his expense, he knew there was no malice behind it. Hank didn't seem like the type to believe in gender roles. 

   After dinner, Hank went to go take a shower, since Connor mentioned that cutting wet hair was easier, and usually how they did it at a salon. The human must have agreed because he stood from his chair and disappeared into the bathroom. Connor heard the shower a few moments later. 

   _Take **care**  of  **Hank**  and  **Sumo**  
   Find  **scissors**_

The objectives popped up without his input. Sumo didn't need anything, and Hank was in the shower, so he was going to focus on that objective, for right now. 

   It didn't take very long to find scissors, Hank had a pair laying on his desk in the living room. They weren't hair cutting scissors, but they looked sharp enough to be able to do the job, so Connor picked them up and slipped them into his pocket. After cleaning up the kitchen, Hank walked out of the bathroom and into his room-- Connor didn't look over, knowing Hank he was probably as naked as the day he was born-- and then came out a few minutes later wearing a tee shirt with a very faded logo that said 'Metallica', a metal group, Connor assumed, and a pair of sweatpants. "Alright, let's get this shit over with."

   Hank sat down, and Connor pulled the scissors from his pocket. "Is there any style you would like in particular?"

   Hank waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, just make it short."

   Connor silently mourned, knowing that Hank wouldn't be able to tie his hair back anymore. It was a shame. He really liked the ponytail. But, if he did a good job, maybe Hank would prefer what he saw in the mirror more often. It was a necessary sacrifice. So, he started cutting. 

   He thought back to his and Markus' conversation. The other android had gone on to give him some standard tips. He suggested complimenting him more often. "You have very soft hair, Hank."

   "Connor, that's just weird."

   Connor frowned.

   Hank sighed. "Which is why I'm not surprised you'd say something like that... Weirdo."

   "I was merely making an observation."

   "Hm."

   Okay, that didn't work as well as he'd hoped, and at this point, trying a different compliment would more than likely make the human suspicious. "How was work?"

   "Work," Hank replied. "I already told ya the most interesting part of the day." Right, Nines pouring coffee in Gavin's lap. Connor couldn't help but giggle at the mental image. Hank smiled. "You shoulda seen it. Reed was super pissed."

   "Knowing that pair, it's likely to happen again, at some point," Connor said through giggles. "You didn't get into any trouble today, right?"

   "Nah. My disciplinary folder's big enough as it is. 'Specially since I socked that cocksucker, Perkins, back in November."

   "He looked more like an asslicker to me."

   "Wow, nice sailor mouth. Enjoy hell." Hank chuckled. He blew some hair out of his face. Connor was still regretting getting rid of all this hair, but Hank didn't like it like this, and he needed a confidence boost. He wondered if the Lieutenant would let him shave his beard for him, too. That was one of the human's more common gripes when it came to his appearance. As if reading his mind, Hank reached up to scratch his beard. "Fuck, I need to shave."

   "I could do that for you." Connor offered. 

   Hank shrugged. "If you want to. Razors in the bathroom cabinet."

   So, after he finished with the hair cutting portion, he went into the bathroom and pulled Hank's razor out of the cabinet. It looked like it hadn't been used for quite some time, but then, Hank hadn't trimmed his beard for as long as Connor knew him, and if the length of it when they met was anything to go off of, he hadn't shaved for a while before they met, either. "Don't make me look stupid."

   "I won't," Connor assured him. Hank huffed, but Connor could tell there wasn't any malice behind that, either. He was all bark and not really that much bite. Well, these days, that was. Hank might have pulled a gun on him back in November, but it wasn't like Connor had been very easily liked back then, concerned only with his mission. Even with his internal conflicts that he'd been compromised, Connor still walked and talked like a machine. Anything that wasn't mechanical seeming, Hank had assumed was a part of his social relations program. 

   It didn't take very long for him to finish. "Done. Go take a look in the mirror."

   "Ah, jeez," Hank muttered. He stood from the chair, and Connor followed after him. As Hank walked into the bathroom, Connor stood in the doorway. Hank seemed... Complacent at first, and Connor thought for a moment that he'd messed up, or that Hank just didn't like it, or maybe that even a haircut couldn't help with his self-loathing. 

   "Do you like it?"

   "Yeah, you did a good job, Connor."

   Connor frowned. It seemed Hank liked the concept of the haircut more than he liked how the haircut looked on him. "I think you look quite nice." He decided to say.

   He didn't fail to notice the way the human's cheeks flushed a little. He didn't mention it, though. "Thanks, Con."

   Well, maybe over time Hank would be more comfortable with his appearance. Until then, Connor was just gonna have to be patient. 


End file.
